Fragmented Encounters
by Masshiro-Ni
Summary: It's the moments when we're at our lowest that we most want to see the people that lift us up. It's in the time we spend with those people that we discover who we really are. A compilation of various moments from the end of the Winter War to just before the Thousand Year Blood War focusing on Ichigo, Rukia, and the bond they share.
1. Public Transportation

**Hey everyone, welcome to my IchiRuki week 2015 collection. I'm going for more of a vignette feel for this one, meaning its going to be a lot of short exchanges between characters in just one scene. Expect them to be short - about 750 to 1000 words or so. Hope you like 'em.**

 **The prompt here for today was public transportation, and rather than actually incorporate buses or trains as the main focus, I wanted to go something that offered a bit more of the traditional IchiRuki dynamic. This is what happened.**

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 **Day 1: Public Transportation**

It was strange to think that in all the time that Ichigo had known her, Rukia had never been on a train. It wasn't that hard to believe, though. Soul Society didn't really seem like the kind of place that would have a rail system set up. Hell, the closest he'd come to anything resembling it during that entire excursion had been the train-like death machine in the Dangai, with the next closest thing after that being Kuukaku's cannon ball. Neither of those had been awfully pleasant.

So, with a class trip to Okinawa coming their way, it was no surprise that the first thing Rukia had become so enamored by was the idea that they could ride just about anywhere in the bustling little town of Naha in the comfort of a heavily air conditioned car for just a few hundred measly yen.

It was the middle of August, making the students all the happier for the cheap vending machines that seemed to be located every twenty-five feet. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who wasn't carrying around a bottle or a can of some sort, and quite a few of the students had invested in folding fans.

Ichigo's gaze wandered, taking in all the sights that Kokusai Street – the main shopping district of the city – had to offer. There was a line of assorted gift shops, boutiques, jewelers, and restaurants as far as the eye could see. Not that the eye could see that far past the huge crowds of people.

"Ichigo…It's hot…"

The small, weak voice from behind him caused the boy to turn with a raised eyebrow. Rukia Kuchiki, her head downturned and shoulders slumped, was steadily falling behind his pace as her sandals dragged across the ground.

"Geez, you've had like four sodas and a frozen yogurt from that shop a ways back. What's up with you?"

A weak fist bounced off his shoulder.

"Fool…your tolerance for this heat is downright inhuman. When are we going back?"

"You've got to be kidding me. You're the one who dragged me out here so you could buy gifts. We've still gotta find something for Renji and Byakuya."

Rukia would have growled if she had the energy, but instead what came out was more of an annoyed groaning sound. She hated it when Ichigo used Nii-sama against her.

"We'll be here for the rest of the weekend. We can do it tomorrow."

"Not with that trip to Shuri castle and Tatsuki demanding that we go to that karate seminar. The day after that we're all booked up until two hours before curfew, and that's not nearly enough time to ride the train all the way back here, find which store has the best deal, and get back with enough time. Besides, it's supposed to be even hotter tomorrow."

If it was at all possible, Rukia slouched even further than she was before. She had one more last resort to fall back on, but she'd be hard pressed to act on it.

"Fine, you've left me with no choice."

With surprising agility for someone who had been so exhausted earlier, Rukia positioned herself behind Ichigo and leapt onto his back. With arms firmly gripped around his throat, Ichigo's concern shifted away from the fact that Rukia had decided to hitch a ride on his back and more towards the matter of his inability to breathe.

"Get the hell off of me, you crazy midget!"

"No. I'm tired, and your legs are longer than mine. You'll walk faster than I could, so it's your responsibility to help me finish shopping as fast as possible."

"Gross! You're so sweaty! Seriously, get down!"

"How dare you!? Ladies don't sweat, you fool!"

"Well then obviously you aren't a…"

After a much stronger fist impacted his skull, Ichigo caved. He was stubborn, but it was a well-known fact that when Rukia wanted something from him, she would get it. So, the two continued on their way down the path made up of shops. Rukia had managed to haggle a fifth soda and a folding fan out of her escort, eventually finishing the drink and recycling the can.

Now, she'd rested her chin contentedly against Ichigo's shoulder as she gently fanned her face, a small smirk on her face.

"Well, someone certainly seems to be enjoying themselves," Ichigo muttered, a small fragment of his earlier spite still present in his voice.

"It's certainly not as good as the train, but I suppose you'll have to do."

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 **Feel free to point out any mistakes. These are first drafts at best.**

 **Happy IchiRuki Week 2015, everyone!**


	2. Rock and Roll

**Welcome to IchiRuki Week 2015 day two, everyone. Today's theme was Rock and Roll, and as you'll probably figure out by the time you're done with this, I don't find anything about the genre particularly romantic. At least not in relation to Ichigo and Rukia. They don't seem like the time to sit and listen to music together, and I didn't want to put them in a band. So, we're going to go for something a bit more melancholic.**

 **Hope you all enjoy.**

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 **Day 2: Rock and Roll**

If rap was a man's soul, rock and roll was his dreams made manifest.

Ichigo never took much interest in music before he'd lost his powers. Getting lost in a song wasn't something he'd had time for while tending to the various spirits around town, studying, and roughhousing with the local troublemakers.

After Aizen, after losing his powers, that all changed.

"Kurosaki."

He'd barely heard Uryuu through his headphones, but he supposed some senses were never meant to dull. Like how people who had lost their vision depended on their other senses and saw them strengthen in response, losing his reiatsu had made his other senses scramble to fill in the gap.

"Whaddya want, Ishida?"

"You attract a lot of unnecessary attention even without your powers. You've got another bunch of thugs asking for you at the school gate."

Ichigo propped the broom he'd been using to clean the classroom up against the wall. His eyes sharpened, shoulders squaring as he took in a quick breath.

"I'll go take care of it. Finish up here for me, if you would."

"Like hell I'm cleaning up after you, Kurosaki! Try doing the work you're assigned instead of pushing it off on others for once!"

If there was a response from Ichigo, he was already out of Ishida's earshot when he gave it. Scoffing, the Quincy adjusted his glasses before taking a glance out the window. However he had done it, Ichigo was already outside and looking ready for a fight.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You idiot. How long is it going to take for you to be honest with yourself?"

The times when he was fighting, Ichigo was the most distracted. Between the music blaring through his seemingly ever-present headphones, the feel of his fists impacting targets, and the surge of adrenaline that sprang through his body every time he defended, it was almost like he had his powers back. Almost.

"It's surprising how much you can get away with," Ishida had told him after the fight was over. Teachers had looked halfheartedly for him at best, knowing at this point he was more or less a lost cause despite his good grades. Something had changed since his last disappearance.

"Yeah? I suppose it is."

"Honestly, between you constantly having those headphones on and all the fights you get in, I'm surprised you haven't been expelled yet. I never really took you for a music buff. What got you into it in the first place?"

Ichigo paused. When had he started this habit of his?

It began as a distraction, as a way to take his mind off other things that menial labor or schoolwork couldn't. The powerlessness, the uncontrollable changes in the world around him, all of it seemed to slow to a more manageable crawl when his mind was on the music.

It was something like being on the battlefield. There was no time to think about the world outside while he was focused on his opponent. He just had to follow the rhythm of the battle and survive, like Urahara had taught him what felt like so long ago.

As much as he liked Shakespeare, Ichigo was never one for classical music. There were some certain, more intense scores he was fond of, but oftentimes the feelings brought about by the more elegant side of the genre brought back memories of things he'd rather not think about.

With rock and roll, though, it was all his fights with Grimmjow and Kenpachi, fast tracks with powerful riffs that conveyed confidence, power, and adrenaline. There was no need for the beauty of a white Zanpakuto or the gentle chill of frosty reiatsu in the air, and certainly no thought of deep purple eyes looking at him with concern, longing, and fear before they faded out of his sight for good.

Ichigo winced, fishing the device out of his pocket and upping the volume of the track. There was absolutely no point in dwelling on things like that. They weren't a part of his world anymore. He'd fought so hard for this normal life where he didn't have to worry about things like that in the first place. All that was left for him to do was focus on the beat of the song, do his work, and go about his mundane existence.

"I just…couldn't keep up with the world without it, I guess."

He couldn't tell Ishida that those elegant melodies that he skipped whenever he had to throughout the day were the ones he could really get lost in, the ones that brought back the best memories from the time he'd had his powers. The ones that no matter how many times he said he wouldn't, he always ended up falling asleep to at night.

Damn. He really was pathetic.

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 **Feel free to point out any spelling/grammar/continuity mistakes. Again, these are first drafts at best.**


	3. Call Me

**IchiRuki Week Day 3 starts off with a bang. Rather than rip off Carly Rae Jepson, throw an AU into the mix, or anything else that's really obvious, I'm going to deliver...well, more of the same really.**

 **Another short thing, trying to grasp that traditional IchiRuki moment feel.**

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 **Day 3: Call Me**

Whoever had taught Rukia how to text was first on Ichigo's list of people to pummel next time he went to Soul Society. It had been all the midget was doing since he'd gotten his powers back. At least ten times a day she'd send him a photo of something with a caption attached, or tell him something that happened back in the Soul Society, or ask him how he was doing coupled alongside a thinly veiled insult.

Having a constant link to his midget wasn't something Ichigo hated, but he really wished that she would just drop the text messages. The constant spam that interrupted his day to day life slaying hollows in town, and cramming for his upcoming exams was starting to be a pain when he couldn't even get an hour of work in without his phone buzzing or his badge screaming at him.

It also infuriated him to no end that the means of communication wasn't at all personal.

Rukia through the keyboard was different than Rukia in an actual conversation. It was diluted through all those crappy emoticons that she liked to send, and occasionally she'd even wind up losing her phone only to have almost anyone else back in Soul Society find it and clog his inbox.

He'd once wondered why Rukia was challenging him to "grand combat" before looking at the end of the message and seeing Ikkaku's name. Needless to say, Ichigo had blatantly refused and demanded that Ikkaku get the phone back to Rukia. Surprisingly, Yachiru had responded calling him a spoilsport.

There were times that Byakuya had picked up the phone that Rukia had left at the table during meals, and when that happened he was always on the receiving end of a nasty smear on his character. Something about "treating written communication with more respect than the offhanded, vulgar shrug he gave speaking." Of course, Rukia had apologized for those, but it didn't really help knowing that Byakuya could judge him for things he'd said so long after having said them. Especially when they were words he was never meant to read.

Hell, he couldn't begin to count the requests for stuff that could only be bought in the world of the living. More often than not, those had come with pictures of Rangiku that were just risqué enough to make him uncomfortable. That woman should not have been taught how to use a camera phone. He swore, she loved pushing people's buttons more than Gin had.

None of this would have even been an issue if Rukia had just called him when she wanted to talk. After Rukia had adopted this means of communication she had all but refused to do so, though. It irritated Ichigo to no end.

His phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket revealing a whopping five missed texts in the hour that he'd been out hunting hollows. Was this what people felt like when they complained about their mothers' texting them when they hadn't been paying attention to their phones?

Well, he might as well start damage control.

 _Ichigo! I just heard from Hisagi that pretty soon you'll be starting spring break. What is that? Do you really take a break from everything for four whole months? You better not let that stop you from taking care of Hollows, idiot!_

Of course she was still completely unfamiliar with the school system. She'd only been there for three months, and those had been during the time where things like breaks from school were a rare occurence. He'd have to clear that up for her.

 _Hey idiot! Don't tell me that spring break means you take a break from talking to people, too! I have the authority to send someone over there and have them smack you across the head now, you know!_

The message had come half an hour later than the first one. Jeez, was she in a bad mood today or what? Then again, her first response to him doing anything she didn't like had always been to get mad. Not like it could get much worse.

 _I texted Orihime. She said you were out fighting Hollows. You're strong enough to handle yourself, but you forget that sometimes. Honestly, whatever it was should have been over a long time ago. You're better than that. We've been over this._

Ichigo smirked. He hadn't been strong enough to handle himself last week. She was the one who had changed that. All of Soul Society was, really, but the fact that they had chosen Rukia to be the one to stab him through and bring back his world meant something. If it had been anyone else, he might have not believed they were trying to help until his powers had actually come back.

 _You fool! See if I ever talk to you again! Obviously you're so busy you don't have time for someone like me anymore!_

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. She was unusually feisty about this. Either her day had been worse than he'd originally thought, or something was really bothering her. Getting and staying this mad was unlike her. Sure, he probably could have afforded to take his phone out on patrol to respond, but he'd get in deep trouble with his dad if the thing broke. He had been saving money for his own place ever since the end of the Winter War, and if that money took a hit for a new phone on top of that gizmo from Urahara that made communicating Soul Society possible, he didn't know what he'd do.

 _I'm sorry._

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. He blinked rapidly to make sure he was seeing the message right, and sure enough it was there plain as day. She thought he was mad at her.

For what? Texting him so much. Idiot, it's not the frequency that bothered him. It was the means of communication.

He'd never pressed the call button as harshly as he did now.

It rung once, then twice.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Rukia, it's me."

She didn't respond.

"I don't know what crazy idea got into your head and made you think you had to apologize for talking to me, but you'd better stop thinking like that right now."

"Then why the hell didn't you text me back, you moron!?"

"I was busy. Jeez, it's not like I have this damn thing on me twenty-four seven."

"Well maybe you should! Why did you even call if all you're going to do is make excuses?"

"Maybe I wanted to hear your voice for once, midget!"

Silence enveloped the conversation, neither party knowing what to say next until Ichigo finally spoke up.

"Spring break is a ten day vacation from school. Nothing else. If anything, I'd probably use the time to come over there and see you guys. I need to thank everyone properly, at the very least. Only problem is that I wouldn't have a place to stay. I'd probably wind up with Ikkaku and Yumichika, knowing my luck."

Rukia was silent for a second, almost like she was thinking something through.

"I'll have Nii-sama make arrangements. What day can we expect you?"

"Wait, what?"

"You idiot. I'm not letting you anywhere near that squad of barbarians. They'll beat you within an inch of your life, and that's before they feed you to Zaraki-taicho. You'll be staying at with us. What day can we expect you?"

Ichigo grinned. Maybe Rukia having a phone wasn't such a bad thing after all.

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 **Hope you guys liked it. Again, point out any mistakes if you see one. This is a first draft at best.**


	4. Rukongai

**IchiRuki Week Day 4 kicks off with a bang. I realize that this is only the second time in four days I've actually had these two physically together in the same scene. Yesterday and the day before that they were a world apart. But the fact that they don't need to be together to make the ship work is a good thing, right?**

 **Anyways, I'm still trying to be really subtle with the whole romance thing. Ichigo and Rukia aren't supposed to be the most grandly romantic of people, after all. Any development that we would and have seen in canon would be and is subtle. Hopefully I captured that well enough.**

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 **Day 4: Rukongai**

"Ichigo, I thought you were supposed to be on vacation. Why are we all the way out in Inuzuri?"

The man in question turned to face his shorter comrade. She'd been hesitant when he told her that he wanted to take a look around the Rukongai – there was a pretty mixed opinion amongst the districts about Shinigami, and they tended to be especially poor ones all the way out here.

"Can you blame me for wanting to learn my way around? This place is huge, Rukia. It's gotta hold like ten percent of the souls in the universe or something."

"Which is why you wanting to take a grand tour all around. There are three hundred and twenty districts that make up the four sectors of the Rukongai. Seeing them all would be impossible to do in the five days you'll still be here."

"Not all of them, Rukia, just the ones the people I care about have called home."

Rukia frowned. Ichigo had spent the past two days going around to each of the Gotei 13's main offices and delivering some of the most sincere thanks she'd ever seen him give to each of the captains and lieutenants. He'd even bowed his head to Zaraki-taicho, who almost immediately took the opportunity to attack.

The moron was still lucky to have his stupid orange head attached. If he'd blocked even a fraction of a second later…

"Then why start all the way out here? Matsumoto and Gin were from the 64th district. Toshiro was from the first. We could have worked our way outwards and saved time."

"This one's the first stop because it's more important, idiot."

Rukia seethed. How dare he insult her with that name _and_ with a fragile excuse like that. As if some stupid, smelly old town could take precedence over actually enjoying his time here. He probably just brought her out here to make fun of her old home.

She was about to reply, but a sudden collision with a sprinting boy holding a pot over his head stopped her. Water went spewing out, soaking her robes and her right glove. The boy, quickly followed by his two compatriots with more water and stale-looking loaves of bread, shouted a quick apology before an older man – probably the shopkeeper they'd just stolen from – rounded the corner, fury painted on his face and fire dancing in his eyes.

"You little bastards get back here this instant!"

Ichigo, suddenly more focused on the scenario than his words from earlier, turned to the man with a cool expression on his face.

"Hold up. I get that you're frustrated, but how hard can it be to come across water and bread? They live around here, right? It shouldn't be too hard to track them down if it's that big of a deal."

"And what the hell would you know, Shinigami? You've probably never been this far out in your life. It takes two hours just to get out to the nearest well. That bread was supposed to pay for a month of expenses. Now all of that's been snatched out right from under my nose!"

Rukia's hands found their way into her coin purse smoothly and elegantly. Back when she was younger, if it was making sure she and Renji she wouldn't have thought twice about telling the man to sod off. Now, though, she knew there was a solution that would make everybody happy.

"Here. It's not much, only a few thousand kan, but it should keep you going for the month, so long as prices haven't gone up too much."

The old man was silent under Rukia's stern gaze and her palm outstretched with what he considered to be a large sum of money. Would his pride really allow him to take it?

"What the problem? She's paying for what those kids took. The way I see it, you can either take it and call it a fair sale, or donate what you lost to those kids out of the kindness of your heart," Ichigo added, his own scowling look piling on top of Rukia's.

"Th-thank you for your patronage," the man submitted, taking the golden coins from Rukia's hands before walking back towards his shop, shoulders slumped in defeat.

There was a pause between the two remaining figures. Ichigo's head turned slightly, the motion causing Rukia to turn her head and catch his eyes. She gave him a questioning look, to which he responded with that irritatingly cocky smirk of his.

"I half expected you to trip the guy. I've heard stories from Renji about your mean streak."

Surprisingly, Rukia chuckled. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and her head turned downwards as her eyes shut. Ichigo's expression fell into one of surprised neutrality. Rukia wasn't supposed to do…whatever _that_ was. What _was_ that?

"Maybe I've grown up a bit. Stealing isn't good for anyone in the long run. Besides, I've always wanted to find some way to help out back here. I know I can't save them all, but I want to help out everyone I can."

"Rukia."

She turned, catching Ichigo's gaze and freezing under it. How many times had she seen his eyes like that? Only a few, and usually only when she'd come back after being away for a while. What was he thinking? It was embarrassing, getting looked at like that.

"You can make a bigger change than you think. There are people out there that think you…that think the things you care about are important. When you want help, if you want help, just ask. They'll be there for you no matter what."

What was he saying!?

"Y-you idiot! Of course I'll ask for help if I want it. I don't need your permission!" she asserted, turning away from him and crossing her arms with a huff.

"No," chuckled, "No, I guess you don't."

He grabbed her wrist, making her flinch as he broke her arms apart and gently pulled her after him. She wanted to berate him a little more, but when she turned to face him he was still looking at her like _that_. Her expression softened without her telling it to, and the words died in her throat.

"C'mon. We've got a lot more ground to cover today. Give me the rest of the tour, will ya? I want to see where you used to live."

Something about Ichigo's words upon their arrival here – about how he'd wanted to come here first because it was "more important" – rang true for her just then. He wanted to know where she grew up.

"Yeah. Okay. Come on, it's just over here."

Maybe this trip wasn't such a bad idea after all. Seventeen months had been a long time to be without Ichigo. No one could fault her for wanting to make the most of his visit now. Besides, his hand was warm around hers. That was enough of an excuse to keep him around.

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 **Hope you guys enjoyed this one. I've noticed that these are getting progressively longer the further I go, and I wonder if that's a good or a bad thing...**

 **Leave anything that bugs you about spelling/grammar/characterization in the reviews. I thrive off your hatred; it feeds my own self-loathing.**


	5. Festival

**Welcome to IchiRuki Week Day 5. I have one thing to say.**

 **Long. Too long. God, Rukia, you're so wordy? Why is this so long?**

 **Okay, I was a little too ambitious here, to be fair. I tried to squeeze in last chapter's line about Ichigo's hands being warm to give it a little continuity. I tried to bring the idea of a modern Japanese festival to a setting like the Seireitei. I tried to get Rangiku to reflect about stuff Gin did and compare it to what Ichigo did. Most of all, I tried to make Rukia buckle down on her own approach towards Ichigo.**

 **That could be 5000 words easily, if I wasn't on finals week. I wrote less than half of that, but I still think it turned out pretty well.  
**

* * *

 **Day 5: Festival**

Rukia's hands had always been cold.

Even back when she was a kid, the winters had always been especially rough on her. Before too long, she'd find the skin of her hands turning stark white and pins and needles shooting across her fingers. As a result, sources of warmth were always her first priority. She'd demanded they keep a fire going as often as possible, much to Renji and the others' chagrin back then.

Even after becoming a Shinigami and learning kido, she couldn't manage to find an efficient way of warming her hands up. The fact that so many of them were just quick bursts of energy rather than anything warm and prolonged played a big factor in that.

Ad of course, her Zanpakuto had been less than helpful in this situation. Sode no Shirayuki had told her to embrace the cold. It was a part of her inner world, just as it was a part of her soul. Handling her own icy powers was part of what would strengthen her as a warrior. If she couldn't manage to endure them, she would have to find some way to make it so she could.

Truthfully, the gloves that Byakuya had gifted to her had been a great help. They were a symbol of how her world had changed in these past few months, and they were also surprisingly warm. Still, nothing she'd found in the twelve months since the end of the Winter War could compare to the warmth of Ichigo's hands.

There was a festival this evening held in celebration of the anniversary of the end of the war. The air was growing colder, as it was apt to do this time of year. Still, the merriment of the Gotei 13 could not be so easily pushed down. This was to be the first major celebration to be held within the Seireitei. For so long, it had stood as a pillar of strength and stoicism in Soul Society. It still did, of course, but it had changed so much in the past year that even the citizens of the Rukongai were beginning to notice.

The Vizards, alongside everyone that had gone to the world of the living with her in order to respond quickly to a possible Arrancar attack, had set everything up. Barracks had been converted into various stands, the Shiba family had been contracted for a special fireworks display, and the Captain Commander had even approved of all the affairs and written off the expenses. Everyone was really giving it their all.

The only thing that was missing was Ichigo.

Honestly, Rukia couldn't help but feel a little guilty about his circumstances. He'd given up his power, his ability to protect that he'd held in such high importance, all in exchange for protecting everyone one last time. She recalled the time he'd told her that he knew he wasn't capable of protecting everyone. That seemed like so long ago despite the fact that not even two years had passed since he'd spoken those words.

He'd been so wrong.

She shook her head. Wasn't this what he wanted? Didn't he deserve to have a normal life? He'd fought in battles he should have never taken part in, suffered injuries that his peers couldn't even begin to imagine, and experienced things that no normal human should have, and it was all her fault.

She'd gotten in the way of that Hollow that was attacking him with no plan of defense – at least not a good one. She'd gotten injured and transferred her powers over to him. She was the reason that his life had become so unnecessarily chaotic. Staying out of it now – giving him a chance to live as a normal human – was likely for the best.

The evening approached quickly, and soon the festivities started up. Rukia had never seen a festival before, but the setup that everyone had worked hard on to put together was enough to make her curious. Maybe she could afford one trip over to the world of the living just to see one for herself. She could write it off as field work – Ukitake-taicho would allow it – and she wouldn't even have to disturb Ichigo.

She knew herself better than that, though. It was better to not suffer the temptation.

She walked into the tenth division barracks. Matsumoto had insisted that her squad take care of most of the food for the occasion – something about trying the recipes that she'd come across in the world of the living – and Rukia needed something warm in her stomach if she wanted to make it through the night.

She'd quickly removed her gloves after taking a seat. Her hands chilled a little more as the cool evening air pervaded the makeshift restaurant, but to stain Nii-sama's precious gifts would be a most heinous offense. She let out long, warm breaths into cupped palms as she rubbed them together in a desperate attempt to get feeling back in her fingers.

Unexpectedly, a steaming cup of tea found its way onto the table. She turned to look at her surprise benefactor, shocked to see that Toshiro in a plain blue apron with a tray of food in hand. How had the captain of the tenth division been roped into such menial labor?

"I know more than anyone how cold your hands can get with an ice Zanpakuto, Kuchiki. Drink up."

Of course. If anyone would understand her plight it would be someone with similar powers.

"Thank you, Hitsugaya-taicho," she said with a soft smile. She picked up the clay cup, her fingers digging into the ridges and allowing the heat to radiate into her palms before taking a deep sip. Warmth spread throughout her body, and she sighed in relief. This was what she needed more than anything else.

Glancing back up, Toshiro was back to serving other festival-goers. While it was slightly odd, the sight of it wasn't all that unpleasant. He looked like one of those part-timers she'd seen back in world of the living, right down to the scowl on his face while he worked.

Actually, his face reminded her a lot of Ichigo's when he was in school or trying to act cool around his friends.

 _'You need to stop thinking about him. He's better off living a normal life,'_ she scolded herself.

"Oh, I know that face. Somebody's got boy troubles~"

Rukia looked up in surprise to see a grinning Matsumoto. What was she talking about? Boy troubles? She wasn't some schoolgirl with a crush.

"Far from it. Though I suppose I'm not quite off the hook yet?" Rukia responded, pegging the woman for the gossip she was.

"No, you aren't. Feeling a little depressed without tall, orange, and handsome around, I see?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response!"

Matsumoto sighed. "Honey, we all miss him. He made things fun, that was for sure. We should hold executions more often if it gets a guy like him to come in here and scream about how he's going to save someone no matter who he has to fight."

Rukia stared. She'd heard stories from Renji about what Ichigo and his friends had reportedly done. How he'd managed to take on Ikkaku, Renji, Kenpachi, and still been in good enough condition to fight her brother three days after that was still a mystery, though. She supposed Hanataro had played a bigger part than he let on at first.

"That's just it. The only reason Ichigo fought in the first place was because I mixed him in with Shinigami affairs. He has a chance at a normal life now, and that's what he deserves. It's only right that he go back to a life where he doesn't have to deal with all this."

Matsumoto's clicking tongue confused her. Was she about to be told she was in denial? That was about as far from the truth as could be.

"Kuchiki, you know better than that. Have you seen that boy's eyes when he fights? I was there to see him after he got back from training. It was just after…"

Rukia blinked. She'd heard about Ichigo's training in the precipice from the official reports, though she hadn't been there to witness it firsthand. The fact that Ichigo had been able to grow so strong after simply communing with his Zanpakuto was almost too incredible to believe.

"He did what he had to do, then. His ego loves it, nothing more," Rukia retorted, cutting off the other woman's train of thought.

"It's never quite that simple with men like him," Matsumoto smiled. "Honestly, he reminded me a lot of Gin back then. I don't tell this story very often. It's long, it's complicated, and I'm not even sure if it's true. Suffice to say, I think everything that Gin did, he did for me."

"Matsumoto, I…"

"Don't worry about it, Kuchiki. Gin and I…when he set his mind to something, he'd always end up leaving me. I never got a chance to yell at him for it, but I think he'd weighed his options. He wasn't the type to go after justice in the name of justice. All he was interested in was revenge. That's why he became a Soul Reaper in the first place, and why he was so chummy with Aizen."

"I don't understand. Why would he leave you if he cared about you that much?"

"I told you already. Men do stupid things when they get an idea stuck in their heads. They leave the people that love them, and sometimes they give up the thing that makes them think life's worth living," Matsumoto said with a pointed gaze at her.

Of course. From the very beginning, Ichigo had wanted power. She'd known that ever since his fight with that Hollow who'd killed his mother. The thing Ichigo valued in himself more than anything else was his ability to fight and protect others. He wouldn't want a normal life if it meant losing that.

"I…I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

"Join the club, hun. Look, if Ichigo's anything like Gin, he'll find a way to get his powers back no matter what. When that time comes, you've just gotta make sure you're there for him. And this time, you don't let him go so easily, alright?"

A loud explosion and sudden increase in air pressure signaled the beginning for the fireworks display. Rukia quickly finished her tea, placing the cup back down on the table.

"Thank you. I will," she said in offering to Matsumoto. The woman smiled through closed eyes and waved to her as she left.

"Just make sure you get it through his thick skull before something really stupid gets there first," Rangiku said as she watched Rukia take off.

The night sky was filled with bright blues, reds, and every color in between. Rukia stood alone amongst the crowd, her breath visible in the night's chill air. The show was visibly stunning, but Rukia was slightly distracted from it by Matsumoto's words.

If what she'd said was true, if Ichigo really would rise to the occasion and grab his powers back from oblivion, then Rukia would be there waiting for the day he did. If things got bad, she'd be there to help. If he fell into another bout of depression, she'd be there to drag him out of it by the scruff of his neck.

He had protected them all, and now it was her turn to protect him.

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed this one. Honestly, I think it's pretty good for what it was trying to capture, but I still feel like the pacing could use some work. I'll say it again, though; everything in this story is a first draft at best. And now that moments are interconnecting, it might be the first draft of some weird multi-chapter story that tries to bring focus on the time between the Winter War and Fullbringer Arcs, as well as the month between the Fullbringer Arc and the start of the Thousand Year Blood War arc.**

 **Leave comments about grammar/spelling/prose/characterization/what have you if you'd like.**


	6. Typography

**Hello again, everyone. Well, today officially marks the start of my winter break from school. Hopefully that means plenty of time to finish off the last prompt.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Day 6: Typography**

Ichigo had looked up the definition of typography in the dictionary once. It was a word that was composed of the characters for lively and print, which made sense when you thought about it. Supposedly, it made reading a little more fun for whoever was stuck having to do it. It was like a picture book for adults where the words were supposed to paint the pictures. Ichigo thought that was a little strange. Wasn't the picture the one that was supposed to be worth a thousand words?

Even then, he couldn't help but think the sentiment was dumb. There were some things that neither words nor pictures could ever properly express. There was no way to arrange all the words that labelled what he found most important into such a picture. To be fair, that was simply because no picture could ever represent the emotions that rose in him when he was confronted with the presence of the person who so easily held all those traits.

That little realization had struck him almost as suddenly as the sword had when he'd found himself pierced through the chest for the second time. He'd thought it was his father. For a second, he believed that the rainy world he'd tried so hard to protect once again was about to topple in on itself.

Then Rukia appeared.

The fact that she was here meant that there were still people that were on his side through thick and thin. Tsukishima could steal his friends and his family away from him, but he knew that the man could never take her away from him so easily. She was his strength when his body failed him, his courage when fear clouded his sight, the person who had traded out his dull and boring world where he couldn't lift a finger to truly help anyone for one where he could stand in defiance of his aggressors and protect the people and things he cared the most about.

Words failed to express how indebted he was to her for that, and pictures failed to capture the parts of her that let his soul fly free and clear of that rain that had bogged his heart down for so long. Not even the combination of the two could truly encompass all the things that Rukia meant to him, that she had done for him, and that she had helped him accomplish.

She'd given him the strength that he needed to decide what, no, _who_ he wanted to protect, and he knew exactly who it would be.

* * *

Rukia had asked Ichigo what typography meant once. Rather than list the definition of the word, he'd pulled her over to his computer and showed her examples. Immediately, she'd wanted to try her hand at the technique. Her inner artist was burning bright, but Ichigo was quick to point out that her drawing would probably taint her neat handwriting.

She'd smacked him good for that one.

However, upon attempting the trade she was quick to discover that her problem wasn't her handwriting or her artistic skill – both of which were _exceptional_ , thank you very much.

No, her problem was what she'd wanted to convey to her readers through the words and the picture.

There was no way to put Ichigo's being into words that described him while maintaining the same feelings that one should have while looking at him. His strength and willpower were unmatched, but would simply calling them that be enough to communicate just how much her world had changed thanks to those traits of his? He was a protector, but could she use that word to accurately capture the look in his eyes when he had fought against Grand Fisher or when he had descended from the upper levels of Hueco Mundo to protect her from Yammy?

How many words would she need to communicate the experiences that she had gone through with Ichigo and the things that he had saved her from? The thing's she'd saved him from?

Rukia dropped her pencil and set down her sketchpad without so much as a word having been placed down aside from the title - a rather stylistic presentation of the boy's name.

"I give up," she mumbled to herself.

Ichigo, who had long since stopped nursing the goose egg on his head and returned to the homework he'd been given for spring break, seemed intrigued by this.

"Finally realize you're not a born artist, midget?"

The sketch pad flew across the room and landed point-first between his eyebrows. His head lurched back at the sudden contact, allowing the paper to fall softly into his lap. It had opened to the page that she had been working on, and he was surprised at the name of the blank piece.

"You trying to draw me? Can't see how that would be so hard. You usually get bored and add bunny ears or something."

"No, idiot. I'm trying to do that typography thing you showed me. I thought doing something about you would be simple, but it turns out that you're just too dumb for words!"

Ichigo chuckled, and the unexpected sound stopped the girl in her tracks.

"It's not that hard, Rukia. Here, let me tell you a secret. A lot of people get caught up in this idea that my name means 'the one that protects,' and that's where they mess up."

His voice had gotten quieter all of a sudden, and maybe even a bit lower as well. It was like he was reflecting on something important or calling up a memory.

"Ichigo, what are you talking about? How does that have anything to do with this?"

"Be patient," Ichigo smirked, meeting her eyes. There was a determination there that she'd only ever seen in the middle of a fight, and a sincerity that she found impossible to doubt. She nodded, remaining silent as she let him finish.

"My name doesn't mean 'protector.' Not really. I already told you that I'm not Superman; protecting everyone isn't something I can do. The name Ichigo means that I am someone who protects one thing, and that one thing is up for me to choose."

He pushed aside the assignment he'd been looking at, placing the notebook down and scratching something into it with his pencil.

"The character for 'ichi' kind of looks like a blank like you're supposed to write something in on, don't you think?"

He tossed the notebook back to her with that same cocky smirk on his face. He thought he was so clever, didn't he? Writing her name on top of the first character of his like he was some sort of casanova apparently made him arrogant about his own name. Pathetic!

"I-I don't need your protection, fool! I'm perfectly capable of handling myself! I'm offended!"

"Sure you are," the boy chuckled again as he stood from his chair and took one large step towards her, ruffling her hair and planting a quick kiss on her forehead. "That's why your face is as pink as Yachiru's hair. You're completely furious."

Rukia harrumphed, crossing her arms and turning away from Ichigo in a poor attempt at disdain.

"You idiot."

* * *

 **Six down, one to go. I'm glad for everyone that's stuck with the story so far, even if it's less of a story and more a set of...well...fragmented encounters. Do you see what I did there? I'm trying to be funny. Don't let me try to be funny.**


	7. Favorite Movie

**Well, here's the final entry for IchiRuki Week 2015. Hope you all have a happy holiday season, and a particularly merry Christmas.**

 **Ichigo, in my mind, is the type to have a very old-fashioned view of what a relationship is. And, while Rukia might take a few notes from terrible influences (read: shoujo manga and chick flicks), she's mostly going to appreciate the fact that Ichigo is pretty traditional about this whole thing.**

 **And that's how this little scene is born. Sorry it's a tad late, but I hope you have fun reading it none the less.**

* * *

 **Day 7: Favorite Movie**

Something Ichigo would never understand about Rukia would be her love of all things chick flick. Seriously, the shrimp always picked them out whenever she wanted to watch a movie. He'd already sat through more of them than he could possibly hope to count and definitely more than he was willing to.

She was fascinated with these movies, and not for any reason Ichigo could pick up on. None that made any sense, at least. Why would she get so caught up in these things? Yeah, she liked her shoujo manga, but the fact that she was so enthralled by the characters on the screen in front of her was honestly a little off-putting.

"Ichigo, hurry up and bring back the popcorn! The movie's starting!"

Sighing, Ichigo finished dumping out the bag of microwave popcorn into the large, blue bowl and rounded the corner out of the kitchen and into the living room. He had no idea what Rukia had planned this time around, but he was sure he'd be asleep within the first twenty minutes.

He sat down, placing the bowl in the middle of the small coffee table in the family room and propping his feet up on it. Rukia quickly snaked her arm out and grabbed a handful of the snack, popping a few pieces in her mouth and smiling as she bit into it.

"Good. You remembered to get the butter-flavored kind this time."

The opening credits had finished rolling, and as the song that played to them faded out the room was filled with the sounds of actors walking through the busy streets, a clumsy girl getting herself into a chance encounter with an attractive male, and the usual banter that came along with it.

Needless to say, Ichigo was out before the second act. Rukia's taste in trashy rom-coms could not be contested, and Ichigo's level of exhaustion had been steadily going up the past few days. He'd be graduating soon, and he had entrance exams for college to worry about on top of all the changes that were taking place after the war.

Honestly, Rukia thought it was nice to just be able to curl up on the couch and spend time with him, even if he was asleep most of the time. He'd been so busy lately that this unofficial movie night of theirs was really the only time they got to be together. Still, this was the second time in a row.

But being asleep for this one was simply unacceptable behavior.

"Wake up, you moron," she said. Her elbow quickly found its way into his sleeping side, and the boy jumped in response to the sudden twinge of pain radiating from his ribs.

"Argh! Rukia, what the hell?"

"Stay awake for once and maybe I won't have to hit you!"

"It's not my fault you have terrible taste in movies!"

"Oh, and would you prefer I put on that boorish two and a half hour explosion with the half-naked girls dancing around you call a movie? Idiot, romance is a woman's soul!"

"What are you talking about? I took Renji and Ikkaku to one movie I thought they'd like – at your request, mind you – and all of a sudden I'm the one with bad taste? Maybe you're just picking a really shitty representation of your soul!"

She slapped him. Ichigo was used to the occasional punch or elbow to the ribs, but this was the first time Rukia had slapped him. Especially with that look on her face. It stung, and not just physically. Still, he was used to ignoring the pain when the situation called for it.

They both paused, Rukia glaring intensely into Ichigo's eyes as his expression fell.

"The hell was that about, Rukia?" He asked, his voice even and low.

"You can be such a bastard sometimes. Can't you see that I'm just trying to spend time with you? You spend so much time cooped up in your classes and your room that even though I'm staying here we hardly see one another. You're supposed to appreciate the things I'm trying to do here, not mock me for them."

So that was it, huh? He'd been doing a bad job of making her feel welcome, even after he thought he'd made himself clear before the war. Well, maybe he could be trying a bit harder.

"Look, I'm sorry about falling asleep, but you have to admit these movies aren't realistic in the slightest. They're quick cash grabs to sell to people who don't know any better. It's not real love."

"Oh, and what makes you think you know what's real, Mr. I'm too busy playing with my big dumb swords to get a girlfriend?"

"Girlfriends are a stupid concept created by a society that's obsessed with sex to the point that you need an excuse to get your rocks off and feel justified about it," Ichigo said, looking off to the side and scratching the back of his head before quickly re-establishing eye contact. "If you really love someone, it's not a matter of what you call them or if you have sex with them. It's a matter of the lengths you'll go to for them in order to make sure they're happy."

"Oh?" Rukia asked "And what exactly is your definition of the lengths you go to for love? Educate me, Professor Kurosaki."

Rukia's arms were crossed, and her gaze had narrowed in on him. She was giving him a chance to explain himself and avoid being smacked upside the head again. Well, better to take it and fail than not and be accused of not caring.

"When you love someone, you don't make promises to them. You make those promises to yourself," Ichigo said, shifting his weight so that he was facing Rukia and crossing his legs on the couch. "It's not about that person being good enough or attractive enough to get your attention, it's about what you do to make yourself worthy of that person. It's about breaking down your own walls and opening up to someone with things you wouldn't for anyone else. It's about being willing to give up your life for theirs."

Rukia blinked. Of course. Protection was all that idiot ever thought about. He was the sappy romantic that would do something dumb like swear to his soul that he'd do whatever it took to accomplish his mission. He showed how he felt through action, not through words or signs of affection. It was the kind of man he was.

"These crummy movies you pull up? The guy and the girl argue for a bit, then they kiss, have sex, or both, and suddenly they're perfect for one another. That's not how that works out. That kind of love grows stale fast. It's one you fall into and out of with the seasons. True love is unchanging. It's a choice. It's work and effort."

Rukia's brows furrowed quickly. What did he just say?

"So loving someone is a chore, then? Talk about depressing," Rukia countered with a feisty quirk of her brow. She turned her head away from him, pretending like he wasn't even there.

"Everything's a chore when you look at it like that," Ichigo replied. "It's about whether or not the compensation is worth the effort. And trust me, Rukia, the compensation is always worth it when you love someone."

"And how exactly are you so sure about that? Someone like you who's probably never even kissed a girl shouldn't go preaching big lessons. You might come off as a hypocrite. Unless you actually are just too chicken to actually…"

Ichigo's kiss was sudden, brief, light, and warm.

"There. Problem solved," he replied, a cocky grin splitting his stoic façade.

She lunged at him, grabbing him by the lapels and throttling him back and forth. Popcorn flew through the air as the two rolled to the ground where Rukia had him pinned. Well, it wasn't like he was putting up much of a fight in the first place.

"How dare you! What gives you the right to just decide you can do something like that?"

Ichigo grinned. Her face was too close. This time, when his neck craned up and he captured her lower lip between his, he felt her grip slacken and her determination fade. He sat up, gripping her shoulders and pushing her back gently as he broke off the kiss.

"Because I'm yours, Rukia. It's all I'm ever going to be so long as I have the power to keep it that way. It's my decision to make."

Rukia blushed furiously. "Who said I even wanted you? What if I wanted nothing to do with you after this?"

"I don't like to think about that possibility," he replied with that same dumb smirk on his face.

"You're lucky I love you, you idiot," Rukia said, punching him gently in the chest. "Now say it."

"Say what?" Ichigo asked. Rukia growled. He couldn't look more idiotic if he tried with that questioning look on his face.

"You know what! It's not enough to say you're mine. You need to say why!"

Chuckling, Ichigo placed his hand on top of Rukia's head. He brushed the long bang out of her face, giving him a clear view of her eyes.

"I love you. I'm yours because I love you. Happy?" he asked, a genuine smile on his face.

Rukia smiled. "Yes. That will do for now, I suppose."

"For now?" Ichigo asked, suddenly a little offended. What else did she want? His money? He was broke enough as it was, paying for this dinky little apartment of his on a part-time salary.

"Yes, for now. You've given yourself over to me, and while that's all fine and good, I see no reason to give myself to you. You're going to have to work for it."

"Uh-huh," Ichigo said, underwhelmed by the woman's sudden, arrogant shift in attitude. "And where exactly am I supposed to start with that?"

"How should I know? It's not my job to memorize the customs for proposing to a woman of the Kuchiki clan. Go ask Nii-sama."

Shit. Byakuya was going to kill him.

* * *

 **Remember to drop a review on this. I might flesh this out a bit further now seeing as I'm on winter break. Positive feedback is always encouraging. Or, you know, point out my grammar and spelling errors. That's equally appreciated. Can't say no to free editors.**


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